The Tides That Bind Us [AfroFuturism]

Neon Wishes

Quelle ran her blade up the side of the wood, watching it peel away another layer. The curling shaving broke free and joined the pile at her feet. Outside her window, the Moon colony was dappled in festive splendor. Strings of lights adorned streetlamps and ledges and windowsills. Shop windows displayed snowy landscapes with gingerbread houses and little plastic Santas.

And the pod was as plain as the day she arrived on the moon. The last time she celebrated Christmas was at home with her family. Her now dead family.

The blade bit too deep into the wood, and she swore. Fuck this. She dropped the wood on the coffee table and replaced it with a fifth of vodka and her E-cig. While others fed their vices with harmless vapour, she went for something a little stronger.

Quelle popped the top of the cig and loaded in a canister of pure white noise. One hit of this and she'd forget her own name. And that was she needed. To forget.

Forget home, forget her family, the Hurakan, the accident that took everything from her. She went out onto her balcony and dumped herself on a chair. From that vantage point, she had a full view of Earth in all its blue glory. Maybe she could forget it too.

Quelle flipped the switch on the cig and took the vapor deep into her lungs, before chasing it with a swig of vodka. The festive landscape swirled into a mass of neon waves. And she floated away on them to a place where family and accidents and regrets didn't exist.